There was a time I thought I might bond with Branson’s pack, but that was back when I believed they were interested in the same things I am, before they showed their true colors and almost forced me into something I didn’t want. I shift positions so I can see Caspian better. “How about you? Did you want to pack up? To bond?”
“The choice was never mine to make.”
When he told me he was expected to marry for political reasons, I thought he was half joking, but the bitterness in Caspian’s tone now makes me realize he was serious. His bonding wasn’t going to be his choice.
Caspian must sense the spike of anger that tunnels through me because he runs his fingers through my hair in a soothing motion. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch and trying to rein in my emotions.
“Who?” I ask in a small voice. It doesn’t really matter. I won’t know the person—or merperson, I guess. But I ask anyway. I keep my eyes closed as I wait for him to answer.At least I hope he will. If he isn’t ready to bare those particular traumas to me yet, I won’t force him.
“I was set to be married to the princess of Sirena. Her name is Farrasea.”
A princess. Of course. My eyes fly open. Jealousy, hot and fierce, floods my body. Why did I ask? I don’t even know her, but already I hate her. She could have taken my mate from me. And he’smine.
Caspian chuckles. “Calm, starfish. I’m all yours. I never wanted the betrothal.”
That pacifies my omega slightly, though I’m still on edge. “But would you have gone through with it, if we’d never…”
“I am not sure.” He looks past me, like he’s remembering something. “I told myself I would just satisfy my curiosity by finding out about Ocearus, then I would return and perform my duty.” He sighs deeply, his whole chest lifting and falling. “But I think, deep down, I knew that was a lie. I ignored my duty and fled.”
Now it’s my turn to soothe him. I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.
“I was a coward,” he whispers.
“No. You were brave to go off on your own and leave everything you’ve ever known. It’s courageous to set boundaries, to take control of your own life, and live it the way you want rather than the way someone else dictates.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” He shifts to rest his palm on my cheek.
I lean into his touch and hum, acknowledging his comment without expanding on it.
“Come on,” I stand up and hold my hand out for Caspian, “let’s go to bed.”
We spend the rest of the night tangled in each other, a new sense of gratitude flowing through the bond. There are so many reasons we might not have found each other. But we did.
He’s mine now, and I’m his. And no matter where we came from, or what happens in the future, I’m never letting him go.
18
It’s early morning, and I’m in the quad, staring at the droves of students heading to and from classes. I walk aimlessly, tracing the criss-cross paths across campus, the buzzing in my brain incessant. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Madison and her bondedmerman. Hunter still doesn’t believe me, but I know what I saw. Right?
Maybe if Madison and her mate go down to the beach again I can drag Hunter to the plateau, and we can watch… like creepers… no, okay that’s a terrible idea.
Could I catch them on camera? Huge violation of privacy, but since when has that ever stopped me. It would be like photographing one of the fish I stud—fuck, no. It’s nothing like that. Hunter would probably never speak to me again. But if he saw?—
I spot the blue hair first, like a colorful beacon in a sea of normalcy. Sure enough, clinging to his arm is the sweet little omega. The two of them are heading toward the cafe by the student center.
Well, I wanted a coffee, anyway. Perfect timing.
My gait is anything but casual as I beeline to the cafe, already scheming how I can get close to them again. I briefly met Madison when I barreled into her by accident. I could apologize to her again, maybe ask her who the handsome fella on her arm is.
Not wanting to seem too suspicious, I swing the door open and hop in the back of the line.Just want a latte, nothing to see here.
The line moves at a snail’s pace as I subtly search for the duo. There! They have a table in the back. Shit, it isn’t like I can casually walk past them when they’re secluded in the fucking corner.
The older couple at the table next to them begins cleaning up their trash. I need that table. If this line could move any faster than a DMV employee, that would be great.
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!
I’m barely restraining myself from bouncing on my toes at this point. Finally, the barista calls me forward and before she can ask for my order I blurt out, “Small black coffee thanks!”
